White Lies
by meressefers
Summary: The Potara fusion is broken! Kibito decides to spend time away from Kaioshin. But life on Earth exposes him to some uncomfortable truths about the Z-Senshi, human society, and Kaioshin's ability to protect the universe. AU, post-"Yo Son Goku and His Friends Return." Kibito/Kaioshin, Kibito/OC. *In progress*
1. Chapter 1: The Separation

**White Lies**

**by Meressefers**

* * *

Author's note: AU, set immediately post-"Yo Son Goku and His Friends Return".

There's a minor discrepancy between "Yo Son Goku" and the series proper that's relevant to this story. The series makes it sound like the Dragon Balls were used to wish away all knowledge of Majin Buu, but the OAV suggests that Earth's population knows that something called Majin Buu existed and thinks that Mr. Satan beat it, even if they don't draw the connection to a certain round pink dude. I'm following the OAV's lead here. (This will be more important in later chapters.)

Obviously, I do not own DBZ or any of its characters.

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**Chapter 1: The Separation**

It was a wonder that he waited so long to take the obvious solution.

Watching the battle between Vegetto and Super Buu from the safety of the Kaioshin planet, Kibitoshin had felt the horror of despair when Buu overcame his opponent by absorbing him.

_All of my efforts have been for naught_, he thought.

Five million years of guilt washed over him—five million years of replaying the deaths of his fellow Kaioshin over and over again in his head, regretting Buu's survival, regretting his _own_ survival. Five million more years of guilt from his lifetime as Kibito. He had not protected his master; he had not protected the universe. If only he had spoken up, said something on that fateful day when they could have destroyed Majin Buu in his shell. More recent shame too—the childish and petulant way he had treated Gohan, their hoped-for savior, sensing that he was a rival for Kaioshin's affections. Even after the fusion, he could have—should have—gone to Earth to fight alongside the Saiyans, despite Elder Kaioshin's warnings. Two voices, two streams of thought echoing in his head. It struck Kibitoshin then: if he survived this disaster, he would hear these two voices, desperate and trauma-wracked, bleeding in and out of each other forever, reverberating with a thousand other hurts that lay between Kibito and Kaioshin.

The revelation that Vegetto had deliberately planned to be swallowed in order to free the other Z-Senshi was a surprise more heartening than Kibitoshin could have imagined. But secretly, in the back of his mind, the separation of Vegetto into Vegeta and Goku filled him with another kind of relief.

_There is a way to separate_, he told himself. _There is a way to separate_.

That thought was lost as events continued to unfold. And since the defeat of Buu, Kibitoshin had hesitated to ask Elder Kaioshin about the fluke of the fused Saiyans. If he admitted to the psychological strain of the fusion, he risked his ancestor's contempt; the elder deity had, after all, endured the consequences of fusion for fifteen million years. Kibitoshin already felt more than enough shame in his ancestor's presence, thanks to his own lackluster part in the Majin conflict. And should he suggest that Elder Kaioshin _might_ have been wrong about the permanence of Potara fusion—well, Kibitoshin blushed to think of the reproach he would meet.

The idea returned to him in full force after the unfortunate incident at Mr. Satan's hotel. Before the arrival of Tarble interrupted the party, the deity was impressed by the gentle demeanor of the good Buu. He had feared the opposite, though he understood rationally that the creature was no longer the monster who had ravaged his planet so many millennia ago. The flashes of Grand Kaioshin in Buu's mannerisms comforted him as much as they saddened him.

_Perhaps—perhaps this is a favor I can ask_, he thought.

He never had asked Elder Kaioshin if there were another way to separate, or even if this way would work for him as it had for Vegetto. But two years of echoing voices was enough.

When the party was over, Kibitoshin brought Elder Kaioshin home to their planet with his Instantaneous Movement, then returned to Earth. He headed straight to Kami's Lookout, hoping to speak with Dende. The mild-mannered Namek knew Buu and Mr. Satan well; more importantly, he was likely to lend a sympathetic ear to Kibitoshin's plight.

"Do you really think it will work?" said Dende when he had heard the proposed plan.

"I'm not sure." It was an honest answer. "But I cannot live like this. I don't know how my venerable ancestor has stood it for so many millions of years. I shudder to think of the fate to which we would have doomed Goku and Vegeta, had they remained in their fused state."

Dende furrowed his brow. "Well, if you really think it's for the best. I'm just worried that something could go seriously wrong." He paused. "What does Elder Kaioshin-sama think of this?"

"He doesn't know." Kibitoshin turned beet-red. "The only thing worse that being trapped in one body forever would be to try this plan out, fail, then hear 'I told you so' constantly until the end of time. My ancestor is not, ah, the most charitable of critics. I'd much rather try it first."

The guardian of Earth looked down at his feet. "It is, of course, your call. I certainly don't presume to give advice to the supreme deity of the universe. But maybe we should talk to Buu before you get your hopes up too much."

* * *

"You want Buu to do _what_?" Hercule Satan practically screamed the words. He, Buu, and the two deities sat in on of the several luxurious living areas in his mansion in Satan City. "But he's good now. He doesn't do _that_ anymore!"

"I realize I'm asking quite a lot of him," said Kibitoshin. He cast a nervous glance at Buu, seated impassively in a large armchair on the other side of the room, his round pink face unreadable. "But I don't mean for him to do it as a malicious act. It would be a great favor to me."

"But what if it turns him bad again? What if he gets a taste of what he used to do and decides he'd rather be" —here Mr. Satan dramatically lowered his voice—"like _that_ again?"

Dende shot Kibitoshin a meaningful look but said nothing.

"I don't think that's terribly likely," Kibitoshin said. "The change in his demeanor is such, and he is obviously so contented with his current life, that his previous life surely holds little reward for him. The risk is entirely mine."

"Well, I don't know," the World Champion stuttered out. "It seems like a long shot to me. I don't want to risk losing the Buu I know and love."

"I understand your feelings completely, but perhaps Buu can decide for himself." Kibitoshin turned back to Buu. The creature's eyes were closed, his mittened hands folded across his belly. "What do you say, Buu? Will you do it? Will you absorb me so my fusion can be broken?"

A moment passed in agonizing silence. Kibitoshin felt his heart drop into his stomach. Buu slowly opened his eyes and looked straight at the deity.

"Okay."


	2. Chapter 2: Decisions

**White Lies**

**by Meressefers**

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Author's note: Thank you for the lovely reviews! I'm so pleased that my little fic about poor neglected Kibito has any readers at all. Enjoy!

* * *

**Chapter 2: Decisions**

"It's those Kaioshin guys," a muffled female voice said. "I'm not sure I'm even supposed to be telling you they're here."

Kibito paused outside a closed door in Mr. Satan's mansion, his hand on the doorknob. He hadn't expected anyone else to be awake so early, and yet Hercule's daughter apparently was speaking to someone on the phone in the mansion's library.

It was his first morning back in his own body. The World Champion had insisted that the two newly separated beings stay the night at the very least, to regain their strength after the procedure. To his surprise, Kibito was exhausted after emerging from Buu. He wondered at the indefatigability of Goku and Vegeta two years previous, but did not protest against Mr. Satan's suggestion.

Nor did he protest when Mr. Satan put him and Kaioshin in separate bedrooms, as strange as it was to think. Not that the human would have know how things were between the two inhabitants of the Kaioshin planet prior to their fusion. It was a relief to be alone and empty and free of another's thoughts. Especially when those thoughts heaped blame on him. Kibito avoided Kaioshin's gaze. He did not want to know how the deity felt about the arrangement, particularly if Kaioshin was equally happy.

Waking up had disoriented Kibito more than anything else, and his strange new surroundings were the least of his problems. He lay in bed in the wee hours of the morning, in the pitch-blackness, _aware_ of his body. The mattress gave way under him in a way it wouldn't have a day earlier; Kibitoshin had been much lighter. With each breath he took, Kibito felt the increased breadth of his torso. The sheet over him brushed against sparse, wiry hairs on his chest and belly with every inhalation, rather than lying flat against bare skin. His feet hung off the bed and out from underneath the bedclothes when he extended his legs. Even his hands at rest felt wrong, as if he were wearing oversized gloves.

_Breathe in, breathe out._

_Everything is as it ought to be._

_Breathe in._

When the sun began to rise, he too rose from bed. The first step was the trickiest; he had to rediscover his old center of gravity. He padded to the bathroom, feeling his weight with each movement. He used to congratulate himself on the grace and lightness of his step for such a light man, he remembered. But after inhabiting a smaller, more lithe frame for two years, he felt clumsy and plodding now.

He splashed cold water on his face and looked at himself in the mirror above the sink. So strange to see a magenta-hued face staring back at him. He knew that the wrinkles he saw were nothing new, and yet they too were a shock.

"I am Kibito," he said aloud, the depth of his voice surreal. "I am me."

He showered and dressed in his old Kaioshin-Kai clothes, then headed downstairs in search of breakfast and perhaps something to read. Thus he ended up outside the room he knew to be the library, inadvertently overhearing Videl Satan on the phone.

"I think I heard something outside; I should go. See you in a little bit?" A pause. "Oh. When do you think you'll be done?" Disappointed silence. "I guess so. Bye, Gohan."

Footsteps moved toward the door from the inside of the room. Kibito hurried in the direction of the kitchen as quickly as possible before the door opened.

Just as Kibito was pouring himself a glass of orange juice—oranges were one of the few Earth foods with which he was familiar—Videl entered the kitchen. She did not look surprised to see him.

"I thought it might be one of you two," she said. "Papa and Buu are never up this early. Do you need help finding something to eat?"

Kibito gazed thoughtfully at his glass of juice. "Recommendations would be welcome indeed."

"Our cook's off today, so I'm going to make myself pancakes. I'll make some for you too."

The girl set to work mixing batter and ladling it into a skillet on the stove. Kibito sat down at the kitchen table and closed his eyes, enjoying the sweet warm scent of the batter as it cooked. Soon enough, Videl set down a heaping stack of pancakes and a bottle of syrup, and laid out plates for the two of them.

"I'm sorry, I overcooked some of these," she said as she portioned the pancakes out between the two plates. "I'll take the ones that are a little too burnt."

Kibito thanked her profusely and eagerly tucked into the food in front of him. After several bites, he paused to take a sip of juice. The girl sat across the table from him, her plate untouched. The girl was clearly fighting back tears.

Kibito dropped his fork. "Is something the matter? The food is fine."

Videl shook her head, avoiding eye contact with the Shin-jin on the other side of the table. "It's not that. It's just—" She burst into tears outright and hid her face in her arms on the table, sobbing.

Kibito froze. Consoling a weeping human teenager was the last thing he had expected to do this morning. He gawked helplessly at her for what felt like an eternity. "Is—is there anything I can do?" he finally stuttered.

The girl lifted her head and shook it again. "No-o-o-o," she managed to get out between sobs. "There's nothing you can do. I'm sorry, this is so embarrassing!"

Kibito thought back to the conversation he had overheard not long before. He remembered vaguely that Videl was not just Mr. Satan's daughter, but also Gohan's girlfriend. "Is it about Gohan?"

He immediately regretted saying anything at all. Videl sobbed all the harder, confirming his suspicions. "We were—supposed to—spend—day—together. But—training—with—father—and Piccolo—at last minute."

"Ah." Kibito slumped back in his chair, unsure of how to proceed. He had lost his appetite.

"Not—first time—it's happened."

"Oh."

"Starting—to think—he doesn't like me—after all."

"Surely that can't be true." In truth, Kibito had no idea whether it could be true or not. His heart thumped in his chest. This turn in the conversation was dredging up old anxieties about Kaioshin, anxieties he wished desperately he were over. The unfortunate fact that Gohan figured in both scenarios was not lost on him.

Videl continued to weep.

Kibito swallowed nervously. "Gohan strikes me a young man who tries to honor all of his obligations. Son Goku, though a great warrior, does not plan ahead and is not always aware of matters that do not directly affect him. Goku probably asked him to train and he felt like he could not refuse." He paused as the girl's sobbing softened to a hiccup. "Does Gohan know how much this upsets you?"

Again, she shook her head "no." "How can I tell him? He's so happy to have his dad back." Her eyes were shot through with red.

Kibito stared hard at the table in front of him, willing his face not to betray any of the agitation he increasingly felt. "I know what it's like to fear that someone you care about no longer returns your affections," he said with trepidation. "No good can come of allowing such feelings to fester inside you."

By now the girl had ceased to cry. She peered curiously up at the Shin-jin—the look of someone, still a child, perpetually surprised that the adults around her had inner lives and secrets far removed from the present. Kibito turned his attention to his plate, methodically cutting up his remaining pancakes. Videl stood up and began to clear her now-cold plate of burnt pancakes away.

After a couple moments of silence, Kibito felt but did not hear another presence enter the kitchen. Kaioshin. He concentrated even harder on the breakfast he no longer wished to eat. It was bad enough that he had blurted out what he had to a distraught teenager whom he barely knew. He hoped that the innocent self-absorption of youth prevented her from drawing any further conclusions.

"Good morning, Videl, Kibito," the deity said airly. "It smells lovely in here. What are you cooking?"

"I made pancakes. There's still batter left. Would you like some?" Videl's voice sounded distant through the throbbing panic in Kibito's mind.

"Oh yes, please."

He wondered what Kaioshin thought of the situation he had walked into. No one could miss that the girl had been crying very recently. He excused himself from the table as soon as possible, having resolved to spend as little time in the kitchen as he could manage.

As he sped down the hallway, the doorbell sounded, startling him. Unsure whether or not Videl had heard it all the way back in the kitchen, he tiptoed to the door himself and peeped out from behind a curtain.

On the doorstep stood a host of men and women brandishing microphones, notepads, and cameras. As soon as Kibito so much as touched the curtain, a dozen or more different flashbulbs went off.

"Mr. Satan! Mr. Satan!" several voices shouted in unison.

Kibito jumped back from the door, blinded, and headed back the way he had come. By that time, Videl had come out of the kitchen. Kaioshin trailed a few steps behind her, wearing a concerned expression. Kibito gestured inarticulately at the door.

Videl frowned. "Is it the reporters again?"

"'Again'?" Kibito and Kaioshin's voices rung out together.

"They've been coming every day for the last few days to ask Papa about what happened to his hotel. And he keeps encouraging them by saying _something_ every time they show up." Videl cast a fiery look at the grand staircase leading directly to the front door. "They better not have woken him up."

Too late. The Champ was already approaching the top of the staircase in a flashy red bathrobe. The three already downstairs shared a significant look. The girl then moved to physically block the door with her body as her father descended.

"Papa," she said in a warning tone. "You're not going to talk to those reporters again, are you?"

Mr. Satan squeezed his daughter into a bear hug, then slipped past her to the door. "It's all part of being the world's greatest martial arts champion."

"But Papa—"

"No 'buts'. I've got to do my job." He planted a kiss on the forehead of the glowering teenager and turned to open the door, a toothy grin pasted across his face. Videl stormed off as clicks, flashes, and the cries of the reporters mixed with microphone feedback flooded the hallway. Kibito did not think it wise to follow her, but seeing the mass of people trying to push their way in through the open door sent him scurrying back to the kitchen as well.

Videl was angrily dumping dishes in the sink. "He never listens. Mama would be so upset if she were still around." She didn't so much as look up when Kibito entered the room; he could not tell if she spoke to him or herself.

"Would it help if one of us had a word with him?" Kaioshin offered. Kibito felt goosebumps rise as the deity glided into the room.

The girl threw herself down onto a chair. "That's _not_ the point. He promised me he was going to stop showboating so much." She stared bitterly at the wall. "He just can't keep himself from telling huge whooping lies whenever someone sticks a mic in his face. Can't wait to hear what the news says about his hotel tonight."

Since the defeat of Buu, Kibito—or more accurately, Kibitoshin—had considered Mr. Satan a lovable oaf, whose generosity and large heart more than made up for his self-aggrandizing bluster. It struck him now that Hercule's tall tales might be less amusing when one had to live with their consequences daily.

_And we let him take credit for Buu's demise_. He wondered what it was like to walk through Satan City every day, Mr. Satan's face hovering ubiquitously and ominously above the streets on billboards like a flight of menacing birds, and plastered on magazines and posters and tubes of toothpaste—all the while knowing that his fame was built on a sham. _Perhaps that was a mistake_.

Videl was on the brink of tears again. Kibito could see that much. And no wonder, between dealing with her father and Gohan and politely engaging with two near-strangers while holding it together—not to mention the stress of having broken down in front of one of those near-strangers. He decided it was best to leave the girl in peace and went back to the library.

Mr. Satan's library held fewer books overall than Kibito expected, and far too many books that Kibito did not know or had no interest in. Many of the tomes were visibly brand-new and unopened, suggesting that few people ever actually cracked a book open here on a regular basis. He eased himself onto a lavishly upholstered sofa in the middle of the room. The Labrador puppy Bee, now fully grown, dozed on the carpet next to the sofa; he lifted his eyes sleepily to take note of the intruder, then dozed off again. _The dog knows me, even if he's never seen me in my own skin_. Kibito wondered if Bee slept in this room to avoid the chaos that trailed behind Buu and Mr. Satan at all times, or if he had followed Videl downstairs earlier in the morning.

Kaioshin entered the room like a whisper. "I thought I might find you here." He browsed the shelves peremptorily, his red-booted feet floating a few feet above the ground. Finally, he perched on a leather armchair opposite Kibito. "I heard what you said to Mr. Satan's daughter about not allowing bad feelings to fester."

Kibito's face heated up against his will, but he could also see a blush creep across Kaioshin's lavender cheeks. It gave him some comfort to know that the deity felt discomfited as well.

"Obviously things are not—cannot—be the same between us as they once were. And I'd like to think that we both know where we stand." Kaioshin could not look Kibito in the eye; he might have noticed if he had been able to maintain eye-contact himself. "But is there, ah, anything else we should talk about?"

Kibito carefully considered the words he wanted to say. A certain thought had lurked in the back of his mind for hours, a thought he could barely admit to himself, it was so against his sense of propriety. Now, after the stressful events of the morning, common sense should have warned him away from it completely.

"No, Master, not about that. Like you said, we both know where we stand."

Kaioshin's blush deepened. "Of course." He looked down and adjusted the cuffs of his shirtsleeves. "Shall we return home soon? My ancestor must wonder where we are. He'll be in for a shock, won't he?" He smiled sadly.

Kibito took a deep breath. _Here goes nothing_. He forced himself to hold his head up and keep his gaze steady. "I would like to stay on Earth for a while."

"'A while'?" The deity pursed his lips in confusion. "A couple more hours? The rest of the day?"

"No, Master. Indefinitely. By myself."

Silence overpowered the room. Even the gentle snoring of the dog ceased abruptly. The weight of what he had just said laid heavily on Kibito's chest. He wondered if he'd ever get enough air again.

"What are you saying, Kibito? Do you no longer wish to serve me?"

"I don't know."

"B-but—surely we—" Kaioshin's voice rose in panic and hurt. "Even if things can't continue as they were, you are still my best friend, my closest friend, the only person who knows what it's like to live on that empty planet for years upon years upon years. Doesn't that mean anything to you?"

"It means a lot to me." _Breathe in, breathe out_. "But I need to clear my mind. We were in each other's heads for too long." _And far too soon after Gohan came into our lives_, he dared not say aloud, though the deity almost certainly perceived it. Kaioshin's obvious attraction to the strapping young Saiyan youth in preference to Kibito would have been far easier to bear had Kibito not been forced to experience it himself, over and over again, inside their fused form. So many things would have been easier without their thoughts entangled for so long.

"I understand," Kaioshin said after considerable hesitation. He stood and walked unsteadily to the door, turning to look back at Kibito. "I never meant to hurt you." He left the library without waiting for a response.

Kibito sank into the sofa, his heart heavy. Beside him on the floor, the dog Bee lifted his head and licked Kibito's hand, dangling from the armrest. He mindlessly patted the dog back. The sun was shining in through a high window. He peered out at the blue, blue sky—a color still alien to him despite the many times he had been to Earth in the recent past. He inhaled deeply and wondered if he had made the right choice after all.


	3. Chapter 3: A Day Out

**White Lies**

**by Meressefers**

* * *

**Chapter 3: A Day Out**

* * *

The first three days after Kaioshin returned to their planet passed in a fog of relief and guilt. Kibito slid through the days like a sleepwalker, barely aware of his surroundings. Mr. Satan had graciously invited him to stay as long as he liked—a fortunate occurrence, since Kibito was in no state to find a new place to lay his head. Each morning felt like a waking dream even hazier than the one before it. Every night blended into every other night. He never remembered falling asleep, or even turning the lights off, when he woke up the next morning; he only remembered worrying about what he had said to Kaioshin, and what Kaioshin had said to him.

An unexpected visitor pulled him out of his funk.

Late on the fourth morning, practically lunchtime, a loud knock on his bedroom door woke him abruptly. A member of Mr. Satan's household staff entered. "You have a visitor, sir."

"A visitor?" Kibito panicked internally for a moment before realizing that he did not feel his master's familiar energy nearby.

An equally familiar human face peeped into the room through the cracked door. "Is it okay to come in?"

Son Gohan entered the bedroom, his eyes full of concern. Kibito's stomach tied itself in a knot at the thought the he might be an object of pity to this young Earthling. This _particular_ young Earthling, (near-) savior of the universe, apple of Kaioshin's eye. He fought the urge to pull the sheets up over his face or some other undignified gesture of defeat. The staff member left, closing the door behind him.

"So the fusion really is broken, huh?" Gohan scratched his head and smiled awkwardly. "I mean, we all could sense your energy—and Kaioshin-sama's too, for awhile—and then Videl told me what had happened, but it was still pretty hard to believe until I saw it with my own eyes."

"'We all'?"

"You know—me, my dad, Piccolo. Probably Vegeta too, but I haven't talked to him about it." Gohan adjusted his glasses. "Was it supposed to be a secret? Videl wasn't sure."

Kibito ignored the question. "Why are you here, Gohan?" He cringed inwardly at the sternness of his tone, but the words had already spilled out of his mouth. He cringed even harder when the boy had the good sense to look sheepish at the question.

"Well, I don't want to intrude," he began, "but from what Videl says, it sounds like it would do you some good to get out of the house and do something. Walk to the park with me?"

Ah, there it was. _No mistake, this is a pity visit_. "That's hardly necessary," he said stiffly.

"You don't have to do anything you don't want," said Gohan. He sounded somewhat hurt, to Kibito's mixed satisfaction and shame. "I just thought you might like some company."

Just as the teenaged demi-Saiyan turned to leave, a steady rumbling noise filled the hallway outside the room from downstairs, amplified by the open space over the grand staircase. People—and a large number of them—chattering away with each other, coughing and shuffling and rustling their jackets.

"What is that?" said Kibito.

"Didn't Mr. S warn you? Once a month, he opens the house to the public for tours." Gohan raised an eyebrow. "You sure you want to stay for this?"

Kibito sighed and sat up in bed. "All right. I shall go."

* * *

Since Kibito had not been outside in the past three days, he was unprepared for the number of stares he attracted as he and Gohan walked down the street away from Mr. Satan's mansion. So many wide, peeping eyes fixed on him at once. Three middle-aged women engaged in animated conversation fell silent as soon as they caught sight of him. A flock of preteen boys walking in the opposite direction began snickering after they passed him. A toddler took one look at him and dropped her ice cream cone, then immediately burst into tears.

"I do not recall receiving this level of attention at the World Martial Arts Tournament," said Kibito.

"Hmm," said Gohan. "I think the people on Papaya Island are used to seeing some weird stuff when the tournament rolls around."

Kibito narrowed his eyes at his companion.

"Not that I'm saying you're weird!" Gohan laughed nervously. "Maybe it would help if you wore something less… conspicuous?"

Kibito looked down at his flowing orange sash and broad-shouldered red doublet edged in gold, clothing he had worn for thousands of years on Kaioshin-Kai before the fusion. Naturally, none of the humans he encountered on the sidewalk wore anything remotely similar. In any case, he could do without the reminder of Kaioshin. "I see what you mean."

"I don't know where we'll find you clothes, though. Maybe the big-and-tall store where Grandpa shops?" Gohan scratched his head as they stepped into the park four blocks away from the Satan mansion. "Hey, wait a minute—you could materialize yourself some clothes, couldn't you? Like you did for me on the Kaioshin planet?"

"I need to have something in mind first." Kibito mentally scrolled through the Earth clothing with which he was most familiar: mostly the training gis and skintight spandex of the various Z-Senshi, and the chest-baring garb his flamboyant host favored. He shuddered at the last. "Something proper and dignified."

"Whaddaya say we go window-shopping instead and get you some ideas?"

A frisbee whizzed over Kibito's head, barely avoiding contact with the pointed end of his left ear. He nodded curtly. "Let us go."

A few hours later, Gohan and Kibito entered a bakery in Satan City's bustling shopping district. Heads were still turning wherever the pink giant went. There was, after all, nothing to be done for his height or the unearthly color of his skin. Nevertheless, he felt like less of a spectacle in his new outfit: a crisp blue button-down shirt and neatly fitted trousers, with shiny leather shoes. His mirrored sunglasses were further protection against the stares.

"I promised Mom I'd pick up a cake for tonight. She really likes their chocolate," Gohan explained as they stepped into the shop. A bell hanging on the door tinkled. The teenager squatted to look at the items in a glass display case, then looked back at Kibito. "Oh! I almost forgot. You're invited to dinner."

Kibito was taken aback. "Why?"

"Why not?" said Gohan. The clerk behind the counter asked him what he wanted, and he pointed to a lavishly frosted layer cake. As the clerk boxed and rang up his order, the demi-Saiyan turned to Kibito. "Nothing fancy or anything. It'll just be my family. And—"

All of a sudden, as they stepped out of the bakery into the street, a large round form came barreling down the sidewalk, mowing down fellow pedestrians. The form pushed past the two of them as well. To his surprise, Kibito noted that it was Majin Buu.

"Hey Buu!" Gohan called out, but to no avail. By that point, the creature had pushed his way into the bakery. "Weird. It's not like him not to say 'hi.'" Gohan frowned, then shrugged. "So what do you say about dinner?"

Against his better judgment, Kibito found himself saying yes.

"Great!" The half-Saiyan beamed. "Well, it's about five now, and we're eating at six. You can come with me now and hang out at the house, or you can come by yourself later. Your choice."

Kibito thought of the flood of people surely still poking around Mr. Satan's mansion, and agreed to leave with Gohan. They stepped into an alley, out of sight, and Kai-kai'ed away.

* * *

A breeze blew throught Kibito's long white hair when they appeared at Mount Paozu. The country air had more of a bite than the smoggy atmosphere of Satan City. He cast a wide glance around him. Here green surrounded him: the leaves rustling in the trees, the sharp-bladed grass scraping against his new shoes. The Son house stood out, a white beacon in the midst of a clearing up ahead. A square of plowed land lay beside the house.

They approached the house, grass crunching underfoot. Gohan frowned. "I wonder where everyone is. It's never this quiet."

As they drew closer, the wind carried a whimper towards them. Kibito tensed up. Beside him, the demi-Saiyan lengthened his stride purposefully.

On the ground a few feet away from the house lay a ladder—and a crumpled human form, slender hands clutching at the grass. The figure struggled to turn its face up at the newcomers; one eye was swollen shut. "Gohan…"

Gohan shrieked and dropped the box; his mother's cake rolled out onto the grass. Through the swelling, Kibito just barely recognized the Son family matriarch, a woman whom he had only met once before. He heard a buzzing noise from above. A gray, papery mass hung from the highest point under the eaves of the roof.

"The hornets… Gohan…"

The calm, collected Gohan who had fought Majin Buu was not on display here, not with his mother lying hurt by a foe whom brute force could not vanquish. The teenager stared helplessly at Chichi's puffy red face. Kibito lowered himself to the ground beside the woman and noted that her leg lay at a funny angle over a large, knotty stick lying in the grass. _She probably broke her leg too_, he thought grimly. But he knew what to do. He laid his hands on her, as he had laid his hands on her son two years previously, and watched as health pulsed back into her through his magic.

* * *

Gohan insisted on helping his mother into the house, despite her protestations to the contrary. Kibito followed them in, ducking low to get through the door. He made sure the door sealed shut, lest any hornets found their way in.

As he had surmised, Chi-chi had attempted to remove the hornets' nest from the side of the house. The nest's inhabitants had swarmed to defend their home, and she fell sideways off the ladder onto the branch on the ground. She had attempted to drag herself through the grass into the house to reach a phone, but was in too much pain to go very far. "And _no_," she intoned meaningfully, apparently expecting some sort of argument or objection, "it could _not_ wait. Not when we have"—here she lowered her voice to a stage whisper, glancing furtively up at the pink giant—"company."

"But where was Dad in all this?" said Gohan.

"That's a damn good question. He went to Capsule Corp. to pick up your brother and never came back. That was two hours ago. Ran off and left me to finish harvesting the radishes by myself." Chi-chi sniffed angrily. "So I hope neither of you is expecting to eat tonight. I haven't even had the chance to start dinner."

"Don't worry about it, Mom. I'll take care of dinner."

_Of course you will_, thought Kibito. _Ever the dutiful little boy_. A moment later, he reproached himself for this snide and petty thought. There was, after all, nothing unadmirable about this youth taking some weight off of his mother's shoulders, nor had there been anything less than noble about him accepting the task given to him by Kaioshin. He vowed to stop letting jealousy override common sense. The demi-Saiyan always acted from the purest of motives, he knew. Nevertheless, it struck him that, as with healing Chi-chi, the situation presented him with an opportunity to save the day in a way that Gohan could not.

He sighed and stood up. "Let me."

The young man was already headed into the kitchen. He spun around, his head at a tilt. "Oh no, you're our guest. Can you even cook, anyway? Earth food, I mean."

Kibito admitted that he could not. "But I can materialize a feast fit for the gods themselves."

Gohan hesitated, but Chi-chi looked greedily at the Shin-jin. "That _does_ sound pretty good. And I can always use the beef I thawed today tomorrow." She clapped her hands together, and her son conceded defeat.

* * *

"Wow," Chi-chi said as she gazed upon the food Kibito had produced.

It was an impressive array of dishes from Kaioshin-Kai. Songbirds baked with a honey glaze, dripping with juice. Roast flanks of the placid, bovine _tebnoue_-beast, its savory odor circling up towards the ceiling. A hearty stew made from the tall green stalks of the _nanouf_-plant, and a curried dish making use of the same plant's tangy yellow fruit. Kibito was particular proud of a tart filled with the juicy red berries of the _qima_-tree and covered with sparkling sugar crystals. The Sons' ancient, wobbly dining table buckled under the weight of all the food.

"You've doomed yourself, big guy," Gohan said with a laugh. "My mother will never leave you alone now that she knows you can make food appear out of nowhere for free."

"Hey now!" Chi-chi playfully swatted at her eldest. "You try feeding three Saiyans on a budget!"

They all laughed. Kibito couldn't remember the last time he had felt so relaxed. It was nice to be appreciated, even if only for the innate skills he gave little thought to: basic healing and conjuration. Perhaps especially for those little skills. Kaioshin would never have oohed and ahhed over the mound of food the Earthlings found so tantalizing. A sense of simple satisfaction washed over him as they sat down to eat.

* * *

Goku did not return with his youngest son until almost seven o'clock, long after the proposed dinner time. By that point, Chi-chi and Gohan had already eaten their fair share of the feast Kibito laid out for them.

"Boy, does it smell good in here! I wonder what Chi-chi is making," said Goku. He had appeared by Instant Transmission with Goten sitting on his shoulders. Not paying attention to where he was going, he nearly walked straight into his own wife. "Hey there, Chi-chi!"

Chi-chi glowered, the goodwill created by Kibito's feast evaporating in an instant. "Don't you 'hey' me, mister! Just where the HFIL have you been?"

"You know, I went to get Goten, and one thing led to another and—"

Kibito, as of yet unnoticed by the Saiyan, cleared his throat. When he caught Goku's eye, Goku did a double take, then grinned from ear to ear.

"Kibito! How's it going?" Goku's grin faded almost as soon as it appeared. "Oh. Is it already 6?"

Chi-chi pointed to a clock on the wall."What do you think?"

The question hung uncomfortably in the air. Kibito had the queasy feeling that he had stumbled into an argument that had been had many times before. He looked over at Gohan; the young man's face was strained. Goku, befuddled, explained that he had lost track of the time and forgotten all about dinner.

"Well, obviously," Chi-chi snapped. "This can't keep happening. And don't you _dare_ tell me that everything is fine and I'm overreacting," she said as Goku opened his mouth to respond. "Everything is _not_ fine." She recounted the events of the afternoon.

"But you're okay now, right?" said Goku.

Flames burned in Chi-chi's eyes. "That's not the point. I wouldn't have had to undergo all that if you hadn't left me in the lurch!"

She stormed out of the room. It disturbed Kibito how quickly Goku turned his attention to the food remaining on the table after his wife's exit. The Saiyan hoovered up every last bit left untouched by the other three, with the exception of what little Goten consumed.

"This is really good stuff, Kibito!" Goku said between bites, upon learning the origin of the food. "I wish I had gotten here when it was still warm, though."

Tension radiated off Gohan. He hadn't spoken a word since his father and brother entered the house; he just sat in his chair, looking increasingly bewildered at each word spoken by his parents. Kibito watched him cast frequent glances away from the table and back where his mother had headed. Goten shoveled food into his mouth, oblivious to the conflict around him. The clatter of forks and knives against plates filled Kibito's ears.

When Goten finished his meal, he happily chattered away about his day with Trunks and Vegeta. "… And Uncle Veggie took us to the zoo, and we saw a lion and a gorilla and an elephant. And then we went to the store, and he bought us a video game because he swore at a salesperson and Trunks said he'd tell his mom…"

"Speaking of Bulma, guess what she told me today, Gohan?" said Goku. "She's finished the first phase of some big project of hers—something she said we'd be really interested in. And she's throwing a huge party next week to celebrate!"

Kibito watched in silence as curiosity and anxiety battled for dominance on Gohan's face. Curiosity won out.

"What's the project?" said the demi-Saiyan.

His father laughed. "She wouldn't tell me! Some kind of top-secret invention. Whaddaya think it is?"

As Gohan was slowly drawn into a guessing game—slowly, but with increasing eagerness—Kibito tuned out. The sun was beginning to set now. Brilliant orange-red light flooded the room through a west-facing window. Kibito felt his mind drift away, out of the Son house, out of the lush green landscape of Mount Paozu, out of this planet, beyond even the black of space and the realm of the stars. He imagined Kaioshin under the purple sky of Kaioshin-Kai, peering into his crystal ball, passing through the scene that had unfolded before Kibito, along with a billion other scenes in the lives of mortals across the universe, in the blink of an eye—each argument, each bitter word slipping into the homogenizing anonymity of the multitude.


	4. Chapter 4: Surprises

**White Lies**

**by Meressefers**

* * *

**Chapter 4: Surprises**

"You're going to the party, right?" Chi-chi's voice rang out, almost threateningly, over the telephone.

Ever since that unfortunate incident at the Son household, Chi-chi had been calling Kibito regularly at Mr. Satan's mansion. And not, as Gohan had predicted, to pester him for free groceries. She wanted someone to vent to, and apparently saw in Kibito a sympathetic audience—or at least, an audience uninvested in defending Goku at every turn. Kibito could understand that. If the Son matriarch was frequently shrill and disagreeable, well, that was only in response to a situation in which she felt ignored and powerless to do anything about it. Being as unpleasant as possible meant at least someone would pay her some heed. Kibito knew the feeling well. That knowledge tempered his annoyance with Chi-chi into something like hesitant solidarity.

"The party?" said Kibito.

"Yes, the party. The one Bulma is throwing for that big new invention of hers," said Chi-chi. Kibito could imagine her tossing her hands in the air overdramatically.

"No. I was not invited."

"That won't matter. She invited her whole company, not to mention a whole bunch of executives from other companies. One extra attendee won't make any difference. I need to have a responsible adult there with me, because lord knows Goku will probably run off and get into some kind of trouble." Chi-chi paused. "So are you going or not?"

Kibito took a deep breath and reminded himself that the dangerous edge in the woman's voice was the product of desperation. And he knew that her husband was indeed likely to insist on going by Instant Transmission, then unthinkingly stranding the family in West City when he got caught up in who knows what. He sighed. "Look, can't you just contact me if there's an emergency?"

"It would do you good to go out and meet some people. People _other than _whatever degenerates hang around Mr. Satan's house." The edge in Chi-chi's voice grew. It surprised Kibito how fiercely loyal Chi-chi was when it came to Goku's reputation despite all she put up with from him—extending to a general disdain for Hercule and everything he did.

It also wasn't true that Kibito never left the Satan mansion. He had visited with Piccolo and Dende. And a certain member of Chi-chi's own family had gone out of his way to check in on Kibito every few days, and sometimes even succeeded in luring the Shin-jin out. It stung Kibito to acknowledge that Gohan felt genuine respect for him, and concern for his wellbeing, when Kibito, for his part, had long blamed the young man for one of the most humiliating chapters of his life.

The persistent attention those two members of the Son household lavished on him flattered and embarrassed him. There was a straightforward warmth and generosity in their welcoming treatment of him that he almost could not have imagined prior to his sabbatical on Earth. Kaioshin's love for him, even at its hottest, burned much cooler than these unasked-for human friendships. Seen in that light, even Chi-chi's ham-handed attempt to manipulate him into accompanying her to the party was endearing.

Still, her persistence annoyed him. Though he had only known her personally for a short time, he was already aware that once Chi-chi sunk her teeth into an idea, she didn't let go even in the face of hopeless futility. (It explained, for one thing, why she had not divorced a husband whom she obviously resented as much as she loved.) He wracked his brain for an excuse she could not contest.

"Earth people cower when I pass them on the street, because I am obviously not human." That was true enough, even though he exclusively wore human clothes anymore. Chi-chi did not have to know that this was not his primary objection. "What makes you think that this party will be any different?"

The excuse did not work on her anyway. "Look," she said. "Bulma's home is Capsule Corp headquarters. That means her employees deal with Vegeta every day. _Vegeta_, Kibito. He may look more human than you, but he certainly doesn't act it. Unless you're planning on doing something weirder than transforming into a Super Saiyan at the drop of a hat, no one at that party will bat an eye at you."

_And that settles that_, her tone implied.

Kibito sighed again. "Fine."

"Great! Meet us here at 7 on Saturday."

Chi-chi's satisfaction positively radiated through the phone when Kibito hung up.

* * *

Kibito flew up to Kami's Lookout later that day to confer with Dende. As usual, the Namek was pleased to see him.

"Wow, Goku's wife has really taken a shine to you," Dende laughed when he heard of Kibito's plight. "You're actually going to the party?"

"Are you?"

"Bulma did invite me, but it doesn't feel right to show up if there'll be a lot of ordinary people around. The presence of someone like you or me could raise too many questions." Dende then clapped his hand over his mouth. "Not that I mean to stop you if you truly want to go!"

"Chi-chi told me that Capsule Corp. employees are used to a whole lot worse than us, because they interact with Vegeta daily," said Kibito, peering up at the clouds. "Are the powers of the Saiyans not common knowledge—at least in some general way—among Earthlings?"

Dende cast his eyes down on the ground. "Well, no," he said after an awkward silence, a blush spreading across his green face. "They're not. At most, humans know Goku as the guy who won the Twenty-Third World Martial Arts Tournament. They don't even know what a Saiyan is."

Kibito gaped at the little green deity. As ill-informed he and Kaioshin had been when they came to Earth two years ago, they still knew more about Saiyans then than the very people who shared their planet with the remnants of that warrior race. "How is that even possible?"

Dende explained that even apart from Mr. Satan's antics, no Earthlings had ever linked the Z-Senshi to any of the other things they had done.

"What other things?"

"Well, there was that time Vegeta tried to destroy the planet—ah, fifteen years ago? Just think, what if people knew that he was now married to one of the world's top scientists and businesswomen? Oh, and the time when Piccolo was evil. And no one knows who Frieza was, much less that he came to Earth…" Dende enumerated the Z-Senshi's many feats, both good and bad.

Kibito's jaw dropped. He and his master knew nothing, or next to nothing, of these matters. Ditto for the people of Earth. The thought weighed heavily on him. More than anything, he wondered how it was possible to keep such secrets from so many people, for such a long period of time.

Dende shrugged when the pink giant posed the question. "Hercule aside, no one is actively deceiving anyone else. People just believe what's easiest for them." He gave Kibito a pointed look. "It's all for the best this way, Kibito-sama, trust me. Goku and the others would never have a moment of privacy again."

Kibito nodded curtly, but his stomach twisted into a knot when he flew away from the Lookout.

* * *

On Saturday evening, Kibito arrived outside of Capsule Corp. with Chi-chi, her husband, and her two sons. Even in his fused form, he had not visited the Brief home before, nor had he met Bulma Brief more than once, in passing, at Mr. Satan's party not that long ago. He did not expect to be a welcome presence, despite Chi-chi's assurances to the contrary.

Nevertheless, they entered without incident, lost in a sea of hundreds of people gathered in the spacious yard behind the CC building. Tables had been set up, along with a dance floor, a buffet, and an open bar. Colorful lanterns hung from streamers strung high in the air. In the center of the festivities, a large object—roughly the size of a car—stood on a golden pedestal, veiled by an enormous white cloth. Kibito assumed that this was the much-famed new invention or something related to it. Two men in uniforms labeled "Capsule Corp." stood guard on either side of it, and a considerable crowd had collected around it, snapping pictures and talking excitedly amongst themselves.

Kibito found himself tagging along behind Goku and Gohan as they navigated their way toward the food. Though a handful of people stared at him, most did not seem to notice him at all. Kibito was relieved until the blue-haired president of Capsule Corp. herself approached the three of them.

"I'm so glad you guys could make it! I can't wait to show you my little surprise," said Bulma Brief, clapping her hands together. She looked around expectantly, then frowned. "Didn't Chi-chi come with you?"

"Mom's here," said Gohan. "I think she went to the bathroom."

"Oh good," Bulma replied. "I don't think your mother has enough fun in her life."

She turned to Kibito. He braced himself for the sort of stern reproach he would have given an uninvited guest in his own home, but Bulma turned to him with an inquisitive smile on her face.

"You're… Kibito, right?" She tapped her chin thoughtfully. "And you used to be—"

He nodded before she could finish asking the question.

"Well then, I guess this is a 'congratulations on breaking your fusion' party too. Lots of things to celebrate!" She patted him on the shoulder and walked away to greet another guest.

Kibito ate a few hors d'oeuvres, then sat silently while Gohan and Goku continued to stuff their faces for some time. The party buzzed around them. The music throbbed in the ground under Kibito's feet. He watched the goings-on around him with indifference. Earth was hardly the most technologically advanced planet in the universe; he had no particularly high expectations of the invention waiting to be unveiled, no matter how remarkable Bulma Brief was. Nevertheless, he sensed the excitement in the air.

Between bites, the Sons pointed out the few people in the crowd whom they knew.

"There's Bulma's dad," said Goku, gesturing with his fork to a diminutive old man in a lab coat, grinning with a cigarette clenched between his teeth as he shook hands with a line of men in business suits. "He's just as smart as Bulma."

"And that's Yajirobe," said Gohan. "I can't remember—have you met him before?" He pointed to the opposite end of the yard; Kibito wasn't sure whom in the crowd he meant.

Goku burped and licked his plate clean. "Whew! I think it's time for some seconds." He glanced around the party, frowning and presumably contemplating what to seat next. Suddenly, his face lit up. "Look, Yamcha's over there. You remember Yamcha, right?"

Kibito did, vaguely. He knew that the man was one of the Z-Senshi, though as a human his powers were limited. Yamcha stood a few feet away from the bar, not that far away from them, in a fitted yellow suit, cocktail in hand. He was animatedly narrating something to a tall—by human standards, anyway—and dark-haired woman in a blue dress.

To his great surprise, Kibito felt lust rush warmly through his veins. Not because of Yamcha—though the sight of a handsome, well-dressed, and well-muscled man could easily have had that effect, and normally would have. But the Buu fiasco had soured Kibito on warrior types.

It had been an extremely long time since Kibito had been with a woman of any planet. Kaioshin had never demanded exclusivity from him; a sign, perhaps, of things to come. But over thousands of years as the deity's lover, Kibito had rarely taken advantage of that offer with persons of any gender, believing it to be a kind of disloyalty. That feeling of disloyalty appealed to Kibito now as he gazed on Yamcha's audience. The woman in blue had full, round hips that narrowed to a tiny waist, and equally ample breasts. The short hem of her dress displayed fleshy but shapely legs. There was something luxurious about her slight plumpness; it bespoke a life of ease and comfort, far removed from fighting of any kind.

The woman's discomfort and boredom struck Kibito almost immediately. She stood ramrod straight, with one arm clamped tightly across her chest. She sipped robotically from a glass of wine, which she held in her free hand; her eyes wandered the yard, resting on anything but Yamcha himself. Kibito felt her eyes on him at least once. He looked away quickly, afraid that he had been staring.

"With whom is Yamcha speaking?" he asked.

Gohan shrugged and shook his head. "Dunno." Goku had already left the table in search of more food.

Kibito contemplated approaching the woman. He really had no idea if such a thing were considered appropriate on Earth, and if so, how to do it appropriately. He commented to Gohan that she seemed to be in need of rescue.

"Probably," Gohan agreed. "Yamcha doesn't always pick up on it when people get tired of his stories about baseball." He carefully scooped up the last spoonful of food on his plate. "I'm going to get some more. You want anything, Kibito?"

"No."

"Okay then. Hold down the fort for us, will you?"

Gohan left the table. Kibito looked back to where Yamcha and his listener had been standing, but the woman was gone. _So much for that_, he thought. Goku and Gohan returned quickly with heaping new plates of food, followed by Vegeta. The Saiyan prince also carried a meal, grumbling that he could too eat more than "Kakarrot". Krillin joined them not long afterwards.

The odd one out in this club of old friends and rivals, Kibito decided to wander on his own for awhile. He went to the bar and asked the bartender to recommend something. He regretted the decision when he tasted the sugary mixed drink the bartender handed him. _Not that an earthly intoxicant is likely to have much effect on me anyway._ Propriety prevented him from abandoning the drink on a nearby table, so he went on his way, carrying it gingerly between his thumb and forefinger.

The noise of the crowd overwhelmed him. The pulse of the music, the roar of a thousand conversations carried on at once, interspersed with the clinking of glasses and the clacking of shoes—all of it echoed in Kibito's head. More than ever, he regretted giving in to Chi-chi's demand. He needed peace and quiet. Squeezing through one group of chatty partygoers after another, he considered Kai-kai'ing back to Satan City without a word to anyone. It was not as if Chi-chi was around to make him stay; who knew where in Capsule Corp. grounds she had ended up? But duty stayed his hand. He resolved to find someplace quiet to wait the party out.

He strayed into the Capsule Corp. building itself after circling the party a few times and finding no refuge that met his needs. Except for a few members of the catering staff and one teenage boy in desperate search of a bathroom, the first areas of the building Kibito accessed were devoid of people. He relished the clean, cool silence.

He slipped past the caterers—none of whom paid the slightest heed to his movements—into a dark hallway lined with doors. Which room to pick? They all appeared equally unoccupied; no light shone out from beneath any door. Signs on some of the doors, to the extent that Kibito could read any of them, suggested that the rooms behind them were offices belonging to specific individuals. Kibito immediately ruled those out. Some sort of living room or parlor would have been ideal, but he had apparently entered a business area of Capsule Corp. A lounge or some other common area would do in a pinch.

He breathed the stillness in, standing in the hallway. All of a sudden, footsteps echoed from the first corridor he had taken, headed his way. He sucked his breath in, then ducked into the nearest room that seemed not to be an office. He shut the door behind him.

A woman's voice rang out sharply from the darkness. "Who's there?"

Kibito nearly dropped his drink in surprise. "M-my apologies," he said. "I assumed this room was empty."

As he groped for the door handle, lights flickered on overhead. He glanced back. On the other side of the room stood the woman in blue, her hand on a light switch. Her brows were furrowed in a hostile expression of suspicion. Here he was, face-to-face with an attractive young Earthling whom he—not even an hour ago—had ardently wished to meet, and his courage shriveled under her gaze.

He placed his hand on the door handle again. "I had no intention of disturbing you, merely of finding a quiet spot away from the festivities. Please accept my apologies." How strange it felt to be apologizing to a mortal.

"Wait," said the woman as he put a foot out the door. Her face softened; her hand fell away from the light switch. "I thought you might be someone else. Please, stay if you'd like."

She gestured around herself. A long table stood between her and Kibito, surrounded by swiveling office chairs. By the looks of it, they were in some sort of conference room. Kibito noticed that one chair close to the woman had been pulled out. An empty wine glass stood on the table in front of it, the tiniest bit of red pooled at the bottom.

Kibito hesitated, still not entirely sure that his presence was welcome. The woman peered at him inquisitively, expectantly, waiting for a response of one kind or another. It was not the sort of shocked stare he was accustomed to receiving on the streets of Satan City. That heartened him, but at the same time frightened him. An ordinary human, of no real power, completely alone, her attention focused solely on him—and yet unfazed by his alien appearance, uncowed by the presence of the divine. By now, Kibito was used to handling Earthlings intimidated by him. This was something new and unsettling, despite his attraction to the Earthling in question. He wondered, briefly, how he would actually have approached her in the thick of the party. Perhaps she would have been grateful for a respite from Yamcha, but otherwise it could have gone very poorly indeed. Kaioshin could charm and beguile a mortal just as effortlessly as he could overawe one. Kibito became intensely aware that he himself had no such capability.

After what seemed like an interminable silence, Kibito cleared his throat. "I do not want to intrude."

"It's fine. Really." The woman sat back down in her chair. "I'm escaping from the party too."

Kibito sat down as well, with some reluctance. He was directly across from her, across the width rather than the length of the table. He decided that he could use whatever little advantage alcohol could give him—no matter how sickeningly sweet the alcohol—and downed the rest of his drink in one go. The woman stared down at her glass and fidgeted, her pale cheeks suddenly flushed. Kibito wondered if he had overestimated her confidence, or if the fear of being found out had emboldened her, only for that boldness to evaporate when the threat had passed.

Eventually, she adjusted her spectacles and looked up at him. "I'm pretty sure you're not a CC employee," she began. "And Bulma introduced me to all of the big investors. So I'm guessing that you're one of Bulma's personal friends?"

Kibito shook his head. "A friend of a friend." His heart raced in his chest. He didn't know what to say next, and thinking about not knowing made him feel all the less capable of saying anything at all. "Do you work for Capsule Corp?" he managed to croak out in the end.

"Sorta-kinda. I met Bulma at a conference, and she talked me into working with her on the, well, you know." The woman loosely waved a hand in the direction of the party outside. She gave a nervous little laugh. "Can't give it away yet. Bulma would kill me. I'm afraid I've already disappointed her once his evening."

"Oh?" said Kibito.

"It's a long story. She tried to set me up with an old friend of hers. God, what a disaster. Gave the guy the slip the first chance I got." She grimaced. "I'm sorry. I don't mean to talk your ear off. I shouldn't have had all that wine."

"I don't mind," Kibito said, and he meant it. Now over his initial shock, he had begun to feel the slow warmth of desire again. The woman's mix of blushing reticence and chatty openness in spite of herself disarmed him. She seemed anxious for his good opinion, even if she wasn't intimidated by him in the usual way that humans were.

Involuntarily, a smile began to tug at the corners of Kibito's mouth. This definitely wasn't the sort of effect he had ever witnessed his master and former lover having on a mortal. Kaioshin never failed to exude a mysterious sense of divinity, and so every interaction bore the impression of that sense. This human woman did not seem to be reacting to anything other than Kibito's personal qualities. Well, his personal qualities and whatever amount she had had to drink.

"It's just been a long day, and then this Yamcha guy, and then it's just my luck that a handsome man would stumble in when I'm in no fit state to carry on an intelligent conversation." Her face colored once again, even more deeply than before. "Did I say that out loud? I _really_ shouldn't have had that wine."

Heat crawled up Kibito's face as well. He hoped his complexion disguised it. _A handsome man_? That was satisfying, even if part of him could not entirely believe that this woman was referring to him. He suspected that a smoother man than he might have shot back something about the luck of running into a beautiful woman. Since he was not that man, he sat in silence for an awkward moment. He sat up straight and took a deep breath; he let the air fill his chest, and sucked in his stomach on the exhale.

"You must be a scientist," he said finally.

"Me?" The woman raised both eyebrows. "Oh, since I work on the"—she gestured outside—"you mean. No, I'm not a scientist." Seeing Kibito's look of confusion, she continued. "Another long story. I don't know if I can tell you what I do without giving things away."

"If the invention is to be revealed tonight, what could be the harm?"

The woman brushed a strand of hair out of her eyes and gave him a small smile. "That's a good point. In that case, I'm a philologist. I study dead languages."

Kibito frowned thoughtfully. "I must admit, I do not see the connection between philology and Ms. Brief's line of work."

"Probably for the best." She laughed. "I feel much less guilty about telling you then."

Her face glowed prettily. Excitement, subtle but mounting, flowed through Kibito's body. He felt light-headed; he wondered if the alcohol was indeed having a noticeable effect on him after all. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table. She leaned in too.

All of a sudden, the door of the conference room flew open, and a small head with a purple bowl cut popped in. It was Trunks Brief. The boy fixed Kibito with a puzzled look, then turned to his companion.

"Um, Mom's been looking for you. They're about to start."

"Shit," said the woman. "All right. I'm coming." She stood up, just very slightly unsteadily. "You should head out too, if you want to see the invention."

With that she followed Trunks out of the room. Kibito realized with a twinge of anxiety that he hadn't so much as found out her name. He slumped in his chair, then willed himself to get up and return to the party.

Once outside of the Capsule Corp. building, he found the Sons once again easily by sensing their ki. The whole family was together again. Chi-chi scolded him half-heartedly for disappearing. He had no response other than to smile at her, which stopped her mid-sentence.

"Are you feeling all right, Kibito?" Chi-chi asked once she had recovered herself.

As Kibito reassured her that all was well, the music outside abruptly stopped. The dancing ground to a halt. The partygoers glanced around, sharing looks. A man's voice echoed over the loudspeaker system.

"Ladies and gentlemen, may I have your attention please? President Brief has an important announcement to make in five minutes. I repeat: President Brief has an important announcement to make in five minutes."

The dance music clicked back on, only to be drowned out by murmurs welling up out of the crowd. Goku grinned from ear to ear.

"We better go grab ourselves a good spot over by the thing," he said. They began to move towards the veiled surprise. Next to the pedestal, a small stage had been set up. At the front of the stage stood a podium. A row of chairs was arranged at the back of the stage, facing the crowd. Kibito recognized two of the individuals occupying the chairs: Dr. Brief and the woman in blue.

Unfortunately, Goku was not the only partygoer with the idea to start pushing towards the stage when the announcement had been made. By the time the Son family approached the stage, scores of others had already arrived. They would have to stand at quite a distance from the action.

"Drats," said Goku.

"We should have just taken seats over here in the first place, like I said when we got here," said Chi-chi. She leaned down to wipe a speck of dirt off Goten's face.

"Kibito's the only one of us who will be able to see anything," Gohan added mournfully.

Kibito frowned, looking out over the sea of people before him. The crowd was too tightly packed to allow a whole family to force their way forward. He feared that Chi-chi would insist on someone—whether Goku or himself—strong-arming a path through the multitude for the others. As much as Kibito would have liked a closer view of the woman—the invention still being a matter of indifference to him—such a task struck him as deeply rude and improper.

"What are you all doing way back here?" said a voice behind them. The Sons spun around and Kibito turned his head to see Bulma and an assistant carrying a clipboard, the crowd parting to make way for her. "Seriously, there's a spot reserved up front for you. You're the most important guests of all! Krillin's family and Yamcha are already there." She pointed up to a place right against the stage, and gestured for them to follow her.

"The most important guests of all, huh?" said Goku as they moved forward.

"The project I'm working on is a big deal—a really big deal, if you don't mind me saying so myself. It's going to be front-page news for months to come. Capsule Corp. is going to be in the history books for sure, if it wasn't already. But there is only a small number of people who can truly appreciate just how much this invention means to me."

"Why's that?" said Gohan.

"Well, I've been thinking about this for _years_, and it's already played a huge role in our lives…"

They were nearing the front now. Kibito could see the back of Yamcha's head. Krillin's small daughter, sitting on her father's shoulders, waved at them.

"… and I'm so glad that I got to make this happen in a time of peace, just for the good of humanity in general, rather than as a last resort after everyone has been killed off by androids."

"What?!" the three adult Sons shrieked in unison. Kibito was as puzzled by their reaction as by Bulma's cryptic remarks.

"Well, here we are!" said Bulma. "You'll see in just a moment." She winked and mounted the stage. The crowd cheered at the sight of her.

Goku, Gohan, and Chi-chi gaped after her, even as Krillin, Eighteen, and Yamcha greeted them.

"You don't think she was talking about—" said Chi-chi.

"It really sounded like she meant—" said her son.

"What're you guys on about?" Krillin interjected, scratching his head. Eighteen arched an eyebrow and cast her icy eyes up at Kibito. The Shin-jin stiffened. He knew he was missing some context. Probably a lot of context, if his conversation with Dende earlier was any indication. Yamcha looked bewildered.

"Krillin," Goku whispered, his face aglow. "I think Bulma's finally invented her time machine."


	5. Chapter 5: The Time Machine

**White Lies**

**by Meressefers**

* * *

**Chapter 5: The Time Machine**

* * *

"Invented her _what_?" Krillin sputtered out.

"You heard me," Goku said. He recounted what Bulma had told them just moments before. "I bet she's been waiting for this day ever since Trunks first visited us from the future. Now she's invented the time machine in this timeline too."

Kibito stared down at the small group of Earthlings standing around him at the foot of the stage. With the exception of the two small children, awe spread rapidly across their faces. Kibito had no idea what any of them were referring to. Androids? Trunks visiting from the future? Surely not _that_ Trunks, the snot-nosed little boy who won the Junior Division at the World Martial Arts Tournament, and who had just interrupted his conversation with the woman in blue? The sinking feeling in his stomach that he had experienced on Kami's Lookout returned tenfold. How little he and Kaioshin had known of significant events on Earth! The bitter taste of humiliation filled his mouth.

And time travel—that was what they were talking about, right? His stomach sank even further. This was bad, very bad indeed. A Hyperbolic Time Chamber was one thing—a gift from the Kaioshins to the Kamis of several planets long ago, to be used in times of urgent need—but outright time travel?

Kibito had known of two separate alien races who had independently invented and engaged in large-scale time travel during his lifetime. Neither case had ended well—pretty much catastrophically, in fact. The Matoi went back in time en masse to escape the problems caused by dwindling resources on their planet rather than colonizing a new home. The migration into the past created a new timeline in which the planet ran out of water a century and a half earlier than the first time around, resulting in a civil war that completely obliterated the Matoi people. And the less said about the inhabitants of planet Nawand and the incest loop created by their ill-advised attempts to genetically engineer births in the past, the better. Time travel was contrary to the laws of nature, and the universe would do what it had to do to right itself again. That humans were dabbling in—had dabbled in—such affairs was new and disturbing information to Kibito. His stomach churned. He thought perhaps he might be sick.

The small contingent of mortals around him at Bulma Brief's party, however, was plainly ecstatic at the possibility. Horror washed over Kibito in waves as they chatted enthusiastically among themselves, smiles of wonder on all their faces. His muscles were frozen in place; he could neither move nor speak. He hoped desperately that Goku was mistaken.

The president of Capsule Corp., standing above them at her podium, beamed down on the crowd like a malevolent sun.

"Good evening, everyone," she said brightly. "I'm pleased to welcome you to a very momentous occasion in Capsule Corporation history."

The crowd erupted in applause. Kibito's ears rang.

"As you well know, my father launched this company onto the world stage nearly forty years ago, with the invention of the Hoi-Poi Capsule."

Dr. Brief, sitting in a chair at the back of the stage, stood up and bowed deeply. More applause and cheers ensued.

"Tonight, I'd like to present my opus magnum, my own defining work, in the hopes of leaving my mark on this company and the world. I hope I've done even half as much for science and to improve the lot of humankind as my dear old dad." Bulma gave a signal to the guards standing around the veiled invention. "Ready, boys?"

They nodded.

"Then I present to you the fruit of the hardest, longest, and most cherished work of my career: a vehicle unique in human history. It won't take you to the store or to the dentist. You can't pile your kids in it and go see Grandma. Well, you _can_, but this baby can't go forwards and backwards on a road. It goes forwards and backwards _in time_. The world's first time machine—the CC Chronomobile!"

The guards tore the cloth cover away to reveal a vehicle very much like the small Capsule Corp. airplanes Kibito had seen in use above the streets of Satan City. Its hull was bright purple, the Capsule Corp. logo stamped on its side. A glass bubble on top housed the controls and two seats.

The crowd collectively gasped. Flashbulbs lit the darkening sky practically to daylight. The sudden flood of light combined with the noise of the cameras and the continuing applause of the partygoers made Kibito dizzy.

_It really is true_, he thought over and over again. _It really is true_.

Once the commotion began to ebb, Bulma continued to talk, introducing each of the remaining contributors seated at the back of the stage.

"Dr. Melvin Tarbal… none of this possible without his groundbreaking work on relativity… beyond the limits of previous knowledge… Dr. Janice Kimbark… unmatched technical prowess… Dr. Shazly Tayeb… more hard work that anyone else I know… unparalleled eye for detail… so fortunate that he applied for our post-doc position…"

Kibito listened without understanding. Bulma's words made no sense to him; they were just incomprehensible sounds. It was not a sensation which Kibito was accustomed to experiencing. Like all Shin-jin, he had the capacity to speak and understand any mortal language in the universe with which he came into contact. Yet Bulma's speech hit his ears as gibberish. He could not stop himself from thinking about the repercussions of this human invention.

"Lea Chang… Johnny Papaconstantinou… and let's not forget the softer sciences… new avenues for historical research… need for translation capabilities… Dr. Rina Zesh and her unique contribution to this team… ongoing plans to test out trips further and further into the past as well as the future…"

The ceremony continued, a blur. Kibito found himself wondering, against his will, whether Kaioshin were watching these unsettling developments on Earth. He had to admit, barring the circumstance of his own presence on the planet, the chances were exceedingly slim. The more Kibito thought about their laxity in monitoring Earth history, the sicker he felt. Up until two years ago, they had always considered Earth an insignificant backwater, barely worthy of notice apart from the presence of Buu's shell. Now Kibito was learning that they had been even more mistaken about Earth's importance than they had thought. His head swam; he gripped a nearby rail to steady himself.

The rest of the party passed in an equally fuzzy manner. Panic and shame ruled Kibito's mind. He followed the Sons unthinkingly. They went inside Capsule Corp. for a brief, private celebration with Bulma and Vegeta, away from the prying eyes of the crowd. Drinks were passed out at some point. Kibito could not remember when or how; he merely looked down and saw a glass—full—in his hands. The smiles and laughter of the Z-Senshi grated on him.

_Don't they know what they have gotten themselves into?_ he seethed inside. The answer was, of course, no. How could they? The fault lay with Kibito and his master, and to a lesser extent, the chain of deities underneath them.

As anxiety ate away at him, Kibito grew increasingly insensible of his surroundings. The night drew to a close without his noticing it. The Sons began ushering him out the door after midnight. Most of the other guests had already gone, and the party as a whole had moved inside. Goku and his family said their goodbyes while Kibito stood puzzled and preoccupied by the door. No part of this evening had felt real. Kibito fully expected to wake up in his old bedroom in the palace on Kaioshin-Kai, maybe even still in his fused form.

When they finally turned to go, he felt someone place a small, light object in his hand and gently press his fingers closed around it. He looked up too late. The woman in blue was several steps away, her back turned to him as she bustled back into the depths of Capsule Corp. He unfolded his hand to see a small piece of notebook paper with a line of writing in blue ink.

_Rina—982-713-5610_

Stunned, he clutched the scrap of paper tightly between his fingers, certain that it too was a dream and might float away. At a word from Chi-chi, he Kai-kai'ed his mortal friends away.

* * *

"Oh yes, it's true," said Dende the next day. "But you really should ask Goku or Piccolo about it; I only know so much."

"You are the guardian of this planet. How can you 'only know so much'?" said Kibito. He fought to keep his impatience out of his voice. He had flown to the Lookout to get some answers about the time machine; those answers were not forthcoming.

"I only became guardian after Cell had started his rampage, and up until that point I was on New Namek, not Earth. And I was just a kid." Dende's tone turned from deferential to defensive; Kibito knew he had hit a nerve, though the Namek was too polite to tell him so. "Goku can give you a first-hand account. I can't."

Kibito bit back the urge to comment on the irresponsibility of a Kami not knowing basic facts about his planet's history. However much satisfaction it might give him in the moment to shame the little Namekian standing before him, he knew he would regret it. The truth was, he was intensely aware of his own—and Kaioshin's—culpability in the matter. What little Dende knew was still far more than they knew, and nothing had ever prevented them from coming to Earth to find out more.

He sighed. "I do not hold you personally responsible. Nevertheless, this situation is unacceptable." Without waiting for a response from Dende, he decided to Kai-kai away.

"This isn't—as big a deal—as you think—Kibito-sama," he heard Dende cry out faintly as he began to disappear.

* * *

He reappeared at Mount Paozu and marched to the Sons' house with deliberate steps. Chi-chi was out front, tending her radishes with her youngest son.

"Hi, Mr. Kibito!" the boy piped out.

"Hey there," said Chi-chi, looking up from her work. "Are you feeling better than you were last night?"

He ignored the question. "I need to speak with your husband."

"What? I just asked if you were feeling better."

"_Now_, Chi-chi."

She gave him a disgusted glare. "He's out in the woods with Piccolo. You don't have to be so rude."

Without another word, Kibito stalked off in the direction that Chi-chi had indicated. Behind him, Chi-chi said something that sounded suspiciously like, "What's his freaking problem?"

It didn't take him long to find Goku and his companion—or rather, companions, since Gohan was with them as well, based on the large amount of energy they were emitting. Goku and Piccolo were sparring in the air in a clearing, while Gohan sat on the ground below with a pile of books, half-watching them. Goku was the first to notice Kibito's approach.

"Look who it is, guys!" said Goku, successfully blocking an attack from Piccolo even as he looked in the opposite direction at Kibito. "Come to join us for a little training? Gohan's being a spoilsport."

"C'mon, Dad, that's not fair. I said I'd join you when I finished reviewing this chapter," replied his son. "My classes at Satan U start tomorrow."

Only Piccolo seemed to sense the grimness of Kibito's mood. "Not now, you two." He ceased to fight and floated gracefully to the ground. "It's something serious, isn't it?"

Kibito indicated with a nod that it was. He broached the topic of the time machine and its previous incarnation in the sternest terms he could muster, in hopes of impressing them with the gravity of the situation. The two Saiyans answered his questions about Future Trunks, Cell, and the time machine more fully than Dende had, but neither of them entirely appreciated the intensity of Kibito's distress.

"I think you're way too worried about this, Kibito," said Gohan. "This isn't Matoi or Nawand; those things aren't going to happen to us."

"Yeah, I mean, Cell stole the time machine in another timeline to make himself stronger, and things still turned out okay," his father added.

Kibito was aghast. "Do you not even hear yourselves? Cell _stole_ the time machine? How is that not a disaster of epic proportions?"

Piccolo, who had held his tongue through these proceedings, finally spoke up. "No doubt that Cell getting a hold of it was a catastrophe. But that's over and done with now. We were still able to defeat him despite that setback. Overall, the time machine was a boon to us. We had to make do with the resources available to us on Earth. We didn't have help from above that time." He gave Kibito a meaningful look.

Kibito twitched. Shame burned through him. He and Kaioshin had known vaguely of the existence of Cell but had not, of course, stepped in; once his master had convinced himself that Cell was in no position to disturb Buu's pod, he saw no reason to intervene. Kibito had hoped that none of the Earthlings would throw this in mistake in his face, but here they were. He fell back on the one argument he knew would not fail him.

"None of that changes the fact that your friend reinvented the time machine here and now and made it a matter of common knowledge. Perhaps one or two time travelers are not enough to upset the natural balance of the universe, but it's a completely different matter if all of humanity theoretically has access to this technology."

The three mortals fell quiet. After a long while, Gohan looked up at Kibito dolefully.

"We understand that you're upset, but what do you want us to do? It's not as if we knew about the Matoi and all that before you told us just now. And unless we're going to wish everyone's memory away again, like we did for Buu, the cat's already out of the bag."

"I hardly think that's an appropriate measure," Kibito replied, thinking back to his previous discussion of Earthling ignorance with Dende.

Awkward silence reigned yet again.

"You sure you don't want to spar a little?" Goku offered.

"No thank you," Kibito said haughtily. He looked around for a dignified opportunity to escape.

"You should tell Piccolo what happened at the party last night," the Saiyan went on with a twinkle in his eye.

"I gather he knows quite well what happened at the party last night," said Kibito. "We've been discussing it for the past hour."

"I'm not talking about the time machine." Goku turned to Piccolo, shielding his mouth with his hand for an overdramatic stage whisper. "Some lady gave Kibito her phone number."

Slowly but surely, the Namek's poker face dissolved into barely contained laughter. "Some lady what?"

What little patience Kibito had left instantly vanished. As if it weren't enough for them to dismiss his concerns about the time machine, they had to make him an object of fun as well. "What exactly is humorous about that?" he hissed.

"Nothing, nothing," said Goku. "It's just adorable, is all." Goku's grin got wider and wider as Kibito felt his face grown stonier and stonier. "So, you gonna call her?"

"Of course not. Have you lost your mind?" Kibito snapped back, with a vehemence meant to convince himself as much as the others. "Even if it weren't completely inappropriate in any case, she works on the godforsaken machine."

"I think you should call her." Another stage whisper from Goku. Gohan fixed Kibito with a sympathetic expression.

Kibito had had enough, so much so that he no longer cared about the dignity of his exit.

"That's it," he said, and Kai-kai'ed away mid-conversation for the second time that day. He was headed somewhere he knew he had to go ever since Dende informed him that humans had no idea what a Saiyan was. No longer could he sit back and hope/dread that his master was watching from afar the very things that he was witnessing in person on Earth. It was time to talk to Kaioshin.

* * *

Kibito blinked about twenty times when he popped onto Kaioshin-Kai. His home planet seemed surreal and not quite right, a facsimile but not exactly the same place he had spent millions of years of his life. He wondered about the purple of the sky—hadn't it been a softer lavender?—and the unbelievably silky swish of the mint green grass. Could a few weeks on Earth have disoriented him so?

Within seconds, two purple faces—one youthful and one wrinkled—peered up at him. That was no surprise. On a planet with two inhabitants, a third large source of energy would not go unnoticed. They probably felt him approaching from light years away.

"Kibito!" said the younger Kaioshin.

"What are you doing here?" said the elder. "And what in HFIL are you wearing?"

Kibito looked pointedly at his master alone. "There is something we need to discuss urgently."

Elder Kaioshin pursed his lips. "Not wanted here, am I? You two love birds gonna kiss and make up?"

"Really, Venerable Elder," said his younger counterpart, frowning at the old god's crassness. Kibito felt a twinge of desire—and annoyance—at the familiar way in which his master's lower lip quivered ever so slightly. Even Kaioshin's disapproval had a way of captivating onlookers. Kibito braced himself for the enticingly expectant look he knew was soon to be directed at him.

"Lead the way, Kibito," said Kaioshin, gesturing out over the verdant expanse before them. His eyes—so black!—held Kibito's gaze like a magnet. Kibito asked himself if the deity's intensity was deliberately cultivated for his sake, or an artless indication that his absence from the planet was deeply felt.

Kibito walked ahead, and Kaioshin behind, leaving the elder deity in their wake. A breeze flowed around them, carrying the rich scent of the _nanouf_ flower. It filled Kibito with longing for less complicated days. But even through the haze of desire and remembrance, he focused his mind on the problem at hand. His master's collected demeanor suggested that he had not yet heard the disturbing news Kibito brought. Kaioshin rarely kept his cool for long under stress. That meant Kibito's task would be all the more difficult.

It also meant that Kaioshin had not been jealously monitoring Kibito's activities—at least, not all of them. Kibito wasn't sure if he should be relieved or disappointed.

_Am I not important enough to watch? _

He knew the irrationality of the thought even as he thought it. But he could use the silly little bit of anger it provoked in him to his advantage, he decided. All the better to resist whatever charm Kaioshin threw his way. All the better to get through this encounter unscathed and unshaken.

"What brings you home?" Kaioshin asked when they were far enough away not to be overheard. He rested his fingers gently on Kibito's arm.

Kibito willed himself to ignore it and launched into what felt like the millionth explanation he had given of the situation. At first, Kaioshin watched him with lidded eyes. As Kibito's story unfolded, however, the god's cool, studied charm melted into distress.

_Finally, someone besides me takes this matter seriously._

But Kibito's relief was soon cut short.

"There is nothing to be done," Kaioshin said, frantically shaking his head. "Our friends on Earth may well have doomed themselves, and there is nothing we can do about it."

"N-nothing we can do about it?" Kibito could not breathe. Panic sat on his chest like a colossal block of _kachin_ metal.

Kaioshin looked up sharply and met his eye. "You know as well as I do that we cannot interfere with the free will of mortals. We cannot so much as intervene in their affairs unless the safety of our entire universe is at stake."

"Yes, but—"

"Kibito," said Kaioshin. The last time Kibito had seen his master looking so grim and haggard was when news of Babbidi's existence had first reached them. "We cannot stop the inhabitants of a planet from setting themselves on the road to destruction. Even if they are dear to us. Especially if they are dear to us." He let out a long, low sigh. "We cannot be seen to be playing favorites, breaking the rules for our friends. All we can do is to hope against hope that humanity can somehow avoid the dire consequences we fear."

Kibito panted, trying desperately to take enough air into his chest. He had known, on some level, that Kaioshin would respond in such a manner. But the sum total of things he had told his master—not just about the time machine, but the ignorance of humankind and their own shameful lack of knowledge! He pressed his case again.

"And what do you expect me to do about those things?" Kaioshin's despairing tone began to bleed into anger now. "I oversee an entire universe. It is in no way possible for me to have minute knowledge of every event that happens on every planet through all of history. And we certainly can't dump wild revelations on the people of Earth just like that, anymore than we can stop them from building a time machine.

"Maybe you can't," Kibito said. He kept his voice quiet, but he couldn't keep the bitterness out. "But I am not a god. Why should I be bound by those rules?"

The deity stared at him, and stared and stared.

"Is that what this is about?" he said, his lips curling downward in distaste. "You want to be the hero who steps in and saves the day this time around?"

Kibito was taken aback.

"You'll never let the Gohan thing go, will you?" said Kaioshin. "Are you looking for an apology that I didn't choose you to pull out the Z-Sword? I'm truly sorry that the job went to a younger and handsomer man," he intoned bitingly. "And yet I did nothing inappropriate in any of this, which I can hardly say of you right now."

Kibito clenched his fists involuntarily. The conversation had taken a turn he did not anticipate. Gohan! As if he had not proven himself perfectly capable of getting along with the boy, regardless of Kaioshin.

"Please, Master, _enlighten _me. What horrifically inappropriate thing have I done lately?"

"I may not have seen the time machine last night, but I saw other things. Flirting with an Earth woman not much older than Gohan? Rather hypocritical coming from you," Kaioshin said. "And what's this I hear you thinking right now? She's _co-creator_ of the time machine? And you still haven't completely ruled out sleeping with her? That's interesting."

"Since human affairs aren't your problem, I don't suppose it's any of your business," Kibito sneered back, angry with himself as much as with his master. He knew better than to think any thoughts he wanted to keep secret in the front of his mind, where Kaioshin could perceive them as surely as if he had spoken them aloud. As soon as Kaioshin had brought the subject up, thoughts of the woman in blue had flooded Kibito's mind unbidden and uncontrolled—a lapse in his self-control. His concerns about the time machine were now a distant memory.

"It is my business when my attendant abandons his obligations to spite me!"

The accusation echoed in Kibito's ears. Rage as dumb and unthinking as his previous jealousy of Gohan took over. He held his back as straight as possible, to look down on Kaioshin from high.

"Then I am no longer your attendant. Consider this my official resignation."

* * *

Kibito reappeared on the outskirts of Satan City, several miles away from Mr. Satan's mansion, when the sun was on the verge of setting. He knew he would need some time alone to clear his head before he could safely interact with any living person, so he would fly the rest of the way to his home-away-from-home.

Well, his only home now, since he would not be returning to Kaioshin-Kai. He knew his declaration to Kaioshin was a mistake as soon as he made it, but pride would not allow him to admit defeat. What was done was done. He was a free man now. Kibito, the faithful servant of the Kaioshin, no longer existed.

He had tied his hair back in a loose knot when he left Satan House in the morning. The wind ripped it free as he flew. The rush of cool air against his scalp calmed him somewhat.

_I had no choice_, he told himself. It was a lie and he knew it, but it felt like it should be the truth. _I had no choice_.

He landed discreetly inside the grounds of the mansion and entered the house via the back, still preferring as little interaction as possible. A few of the staff, preoccupied with their own duties, greeted him tersely as he passed. He mounted the back staircase.

As he strode down the hallway to his room, a figure spun around. Mr. Satan had been standing at the bedroom door, his hand raised as if to knock. When he caught sight of Kibito, he beamed.

"Hey now, just the man I was looking for!" said the Champ. "Chef's going all out for dinner tonight, even making his specialty dessert. No joke, he's won some kinda international award for his éclairs. Just wanted to make sure you'd be around, 'cause you are not gonna want to miss it!"

The warmth of this greeting disarmed Kibito. He felt himself shrink down. Flying back, he had been puffed up with self-importance; now he was himself, only himself, again.

"Of course, Hercule," he said. "I will be there."

"Great! Buu and I are gonna have drinks on the patio in a few minutes. Feel free to join us!" Mr. Satan clapped him on the back and walked off, humming to himself.

Kibito watched him go before turning into his room. It struck him once again how open and generous the Earthlings he knew had been to him, a distant and haughty outsider. How little he had done to earn this camaraderie, which came unasked and unsought. What reason did Mr. Satan have to care if Kibito tried a fancy dessert or watched the sunset with him with a drink in hand? Little to none, as far as Kibito could see, and yet here the man was eager to invite him to both things. And the way his face lit up to see Kibito return. Likewise with the Sons, and even Bulma Brief, for her small part. All such little things, but they were balm on the wounds he carried from his relationship with Kaioshin, now damaged beyond repair.

If he had lost his old life, well, maybe there was a place for him here. He had cut his ties, but he was not adrift and alone. It made him all the more anxious to find a solution to the problems that were already bothering him.

It was then that he made a decision he had sworn he would never make. Kaioshin had considerably overblown his uncertainty regarding the woman in blue. Prior to the argument, Kibito had been ninety-nine percent sure that he wouldn't so much as contact her. All other considerations aside, he was a man of sense and integrity. How could he possibly pursue an individual involved so intimately with the time machine? Nor was he unaware of the hypocrisy factor. But if nothing really mattered, nothing really mattered. An attractive Earthling had expressed interest in him, of her own accord. What harm could come of seeing where things went?

There was a phone on the far wall of the room. Kibito picked up the scrap of notebook paper, which he had left folded on his dresser. He took a deep breath. He had seen Earthlings use their phones a thousand times now—though unfortunately mostly the little rectangular ones they kept in their pockets, not the kind that were mounted on walls.

Nine digits. He pressed each button firmly and for a little too long. The ringing on the line startled him so badly that he nearly dropped the receiver.

And then she answered.


End file.
